


Crystal Hue

by sancallisto



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M, LBD Ficathon, Post-Series, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sancallisto/pseuds/sancallisto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bride glowed, the groom smiled, and San Francisco shimmered. My response to Prompt #9 of the LBD Ficathon (Details in the notes)...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crystal Hue

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #9. The first moment alone between William Darcy and Lizzie Bennet during their wedding. It can be between the ceremony and the reception or once they leave the reception.

The night was quickly leaving midnight behind as the hours of early morning approached. 

The train of her silk organza gown fluttered behind her as she passed room after room of the top of floor of the plaza hotel. Lizzie Bennet, failing miserably at restraining the giddiness bubbling within her, looked in quite the state after the happenings of the day. Her hair, once immaculately styled, now sat curly and frizzed around her shoulders after hours of dancing. Her makeup, which had once left her convinced that it had very likely been painted on (for the sake of pictures, they said), had softened throughout the evening. She was honestly surprised she still had any left on her face. Her dress, a once-pristine model of ivory delicacy, was dirtied along its hem from the bottoms of others’ shoes. Her own shoes, the beautiful little prisons that they were, now dangled from her hand with her thin veil rather than restricting her sore feet. 

But the newly-married woman glowed beneath her wrecked attire. 

Lizzie smiled easily at two young boys whose little league uniforms revealed their reason for being in a hotel so late at night. As she passed the door leading to their room, she heard one tell her freely that she looked beautiful. She thanked him, her smile suddenly taking on a modest air. She briefly wondered why the random and unexpected compliment made her suddenly shy when she had just been immersed in endless attention all evening. 

The door to her own suite welcomed her as she reached the end of the hallway. Slipping her room key into the slot, she waited for the green light before turning the handle and pushing the door open. Upon flipping up the light switch, the various lamps in the room greeting her with a soft hum, she noticed the modesty of the suite in its decor as well as in its size. Three rooms, all connected through an open floor plan, were impeccably decorated with neutral tones and dark, wooden furniture. A plush couch sat along the wall in the front room. Side tables adorned with modern lamps bracketed it on either side. A small bar and kitchenette with two barstools occupied the other side of the room. An ornamental divider led to the bedroom, vanity, and bathroom. Behind it, a spacious King bed, adorned with a mountain of pillows, had already been turned down for the night. 

The main exterior wall of the beautiful, little suite showcased an expansive window with an effervescent and ever changing view of the hills of San Francisco. 

Lizzie quickly deposited her things onto the floor near the door, the weight of the day giving her very little desire to carry anything for longer than was necessary. Moving toward the large curtain window, she smiled softly at the view before turning her eyes to the rest of the room. Her smile widened as the tips of her fingers came up to cover her mouth. Issuing a rather un-Lizzie-like squeak that had nothing to do with the simple splendor of the room, she twirled once, the train of her dress twisting around her bare feet, before collecting herself and moving toward the vanity. The soft shimmer in her eyes remained. 

Chuckling slightly at her disheveled state that greeted her in the mirror, she began the delicate process of removing her jewelry. The pearl necklace and bracelet were an easy task, but the jeweled headband pulling the edges of her hair away from her face was either glued or nailed into place; she couldn’t entirely tell. Her fingers, now rummaging through her hair carefully, began removing one bobby pin after another. She had already collected a small pile with no end in sight on the top of the vanity before she heard the sharp but not unwelcome click from the lock on the door. 

She watched his reflection as he moved into the suite, his usually impeccable posture impeded by the weight of their bags on either one of his shoulders. His natural tendency toward tidiness had apparently not changed even late into the night, she quipped silently, as he gingerly laid her small suitcase onto the luggage rack and placed his own upright on the floor beside it. It was such a stark contrast from her pile of things still laying hazardously by the door, but she merely shook her head slightly and continued to remove the pins and then, finally, the headband from her tangled hair.

His back was still facing her, his motions slow and methodical. Lizzie knew he was preparing himself, centering himself and his emotions from the havoc of the day. Although the man she had married was of a much more agreeable sort when pertaining to strangers than the one she had met those few, short years ago, she understood his need to decompress following such interactions. They could still be extremely taxing on him; his shy nature would never leave him. She waited patiently for him to turn around as she perched herself on the low vanity stool and pulled the silk of her dress to bunch at her feet. 

Her hands had just returned to picking through her hair when William Darcy finally turned to meet her eyes through the reflection of the mirror. His face, flushed in much the same hue as hers, seemed to relax immediately upon meeting her gaze as if he was preparing for this to have been a wild and elaborate dream. Rather than disappointment, he met the understanding and glowing face of his new bride. The tight, genuine, and utterly Darcy-like smile that accompanied his relief brought a bubbling of laughter to Lizzie’s own lips. She quickly shuffled around on the vanity stool to face him and gathered her hands in her lap. 

Her smile, initially wide and bright, softened as he approached, his steps sure and purposeful. Darcy knelt on one knee in front of her and smoothed his hands along the outside of her thighs, the silk of her dress bunching slightly before being pulled tight once again. 

“I feel like starting this conversation by saying, ‘What a day!’ would be a bit cliché.”

He watched his hands for a second longer before turning his head up and meeting her eyes. 

“Clichés often stick for a reason, my dear,” he replied. 

“Because they’re often true?” she quipped. 

“Because they’re often true,” he said, chuckling softly. 

“Hmm…” she murmured. “Well then, what a day.”

His response was accompanied by an agreeable sigh. 

“Indeed.” 

“Did you enjoy your day, Mr. Darcy?” Lizzie asked as she leaned forward slightly in her seat, heightening the air of intimacy that the evening had lacked.

“I can’t complain.” 

“And that’s mostly because complaining is my job,” she said, grinning impishly.

Darcy’s hands shifted from smoothing the soft fabric along her thighs to cupping her hands in her lap. His thumbs moved slowly along the backs of them. 

“Although that may be true, I still stand behind my statement,” he said, turning briefly to look down at their linked hands. 

“Hmm…” she pondered playfully. “A man that sticks by his word. I knew I married you for a reason.”

“As long as you have one. I’d be awfully disappointed if you were only aching to get your hands on half of my assets in the divorce settlement.”

“You think too small, William. What a story it would be for one of your competitors to legally acquire all of Pemberly Digital! The scandal! The intrigue! The ‘He said-She said’! Will she run the company into the ground? Will he ever love again? That’s front page stuff right there.” 

“You talk as if they haven’t already written those stories.” 

“But front page!” she exclaimed. “If those stories were actually true, they’d for sure make the front page!”

“Of what tabloid?” he countered, smiling behind his dimples. 

Angling her body toward her new husband, Lizzie softened her features and answered quietly, “Your company is worth more than the cover of a tabloid.”

“As is yours.”

“Yes, but they won’t write about mine. Which is why it will be even more newsworthy when I acquire both in the divorce settlement!” 

“Well, my dear, I hate to disappoint you, but I most assuredly won’t be divorcing you.”

“So since I only married you for your money, perhaps one of your other many admirers will oblige you should you feel the need to take another wife? People do that these days. It’s almost normal.” 

“I have admirers?” he asked, furrowing his brow. 

Knowing that he wasn’t the oblivious type, Lizzie smiled and pulled him forward by his tie, their lips now mere inches apart. 

“Well,” she said, “you smile a lot more frequently now. Other women were bound to take notice.”

“Hmm…” he hummed. Unlacing his fingers from hers, Darcy cupped the bottom of her jaw with his hands and ran his thumb along her delicate cheekbone. “Well then, it’s quite the inconvenience for them that I have eyes for only one.”

“Your other wife?” she said, her eyes glowing with intimacy and humor. 

Chuckling, he mumbled his assent as he moved to rise from his kneeling position, his palms never leaving her face. Lizzie, intent on keeping him within physical touch now that he was there and he was hers and they were alone, caught his hands with her own as he rose to his full height. 

“The suite is charming,” he observed, pulling her up to her feet. 

“Quaint even,” she agreed, grimacing noticeably from the ache along her soles. Before she could even take a step, Darcy scooped her into his arms, causing her to squeak in surprise and wrap her arms around his neck. 

“I believe it will do nicely,” he said, his usually-modest smile suddenly mischievous. 

Lizzie laughed in return. 

“My mother will be pleased you approve of her gift.”

“I wasn’t entirely expecting a gift from your mother.”

“And yet here we are,” she said, gesturing with one arm toward the ‘charming’ and ‘quaint’ suite. 

“She knows we could have afforded our own room,” he replied, moving toward the bedroom. Lingering slightly, he took the time to appreciate the coolness of the silk along his forearms and the curve of her hip against his chest. 

“Yes,” Lizzie said, “but whenever possible baby-making is involved, my mother is involved.”

He chuckled, unfazed. 

“See, I’ve already ascertained that fact, but it’s still no less terrifying.”

“Just imagine when it’s time for actual baby-making.”

“You know I adore your mother, but she’s not going to be anywhere near by, correct?”

“Not if I can help it,” she said, her voice low and comical. 

“And if you can’t?”

Lizzie looked him square in the eye before answering.

“Then I hope you don’t get stage fright.” 

Having reached the edge of the bed, he paused briefly before unceremoniously dropping her onto the mattress, the pillows shifting under the force of her fall. Her laughter enveloped the room. 

“Reassuring,” he quipped before joining her on the bed, the springs giving slightly under his added weight. After reaching to switch off the lamp on the nightstand, Darcy pulled her small frame to fit perfectly against his side as she tucked her head under his chin to rest on his shoulder. The ends of her frizzed hair tickled his nose before he smoothed them away with his hand. Lizzie sighed contentedly as he continued to run his fingers through her curly hair. 

The clear lit skyline of the city illuminated the room in a crystal hue. Darcy only noticed this because his wife, being the typical welcome distraction that she was, wore a dress that, while once white and lustrous, now acquired a new, pearly blue shade. It highlighted her curved frame in a way that provoked his hands to shift from tracing the strands of her hair to smoothing her skin beneath the strap of her dress. 

He realized he hadn’t really seen her outfit all evening; few things could have taken his eyes away from the radiance of her face that day.

He resisted the urge to stare down at her as he whispered into her hair, “I will never stop being amazed that you actually believe I deserve you.”

Pulling her hips closer into his side, Lizzie smiled widely into his white dress shirt. 

“William, I think I might have actually swooned,” she said as her fingertips played with the small buttons running down his chest. 

“That is generally my intention.”

Her fingers traced the overlapping edge of his shirt until they met the knot of his tie. With one hand, she loosened it until she could pull the entire length of fabric from underneath his collar. 

She smiled up at him; he smiled back and laughed. She promptly fell to pieces. 

 

TWO HOURS LATER

“I wonder if the wedding cake was any good.”

“I take it you didn’t get any either.”

“Nothing besides that first traditional bite, no.”

“And you spent all that time selecting one. That decision agonized your mother for weeks.”

“At least I’ll never have to plan one of these things for myself ever again.”

“Never again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, who the heck has time to eat their own cake at their wedding? I know I didn't. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed! These prompts are great writing exercises, especially with it now being summer. Go over to lbdficathon.tumblr.com to check them out! Kudos and comments are appreciated.


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